Dreams
by Moonlight's Darkness
Summary: Abby dreams about what had been, and what will come...


_**Author's Notes: Read... Love it or hate it... Review and flame it... Just do something and let me know what you think..**_

She gripped his hand with all her strength, afraid that he might disappear within a moment's notice. She felt the curve and form of their fingers, the way they instantly snapped perfectly together like a puzzle. It had been way too long. So many unsaid words and unfelt feelings. She knew the wrong in what was soon to happen, everything was way too soon. They would open unhealed wounds, let them bleed like flowing rivers from the mountains. But she needed him more than she ever needed anyone else in her life. The door squeaked open loudly, as if making their sins known to the world. She lead him into the dark apartment, the streetlights providing enough light to move to her sanctuary.   
  
He shut the door behind himself. She shed her coat and purse onto the chair in the corner. Her shoes left a few meters away. She heard his delicate breathing. He never once letting go of her. She could dimly see his figure in the darkness. The lines on his face etched and aged, perfectly fitted to his features. She pulled him closer to her body, the warmth radiating between them. Her hand ran through his dark brown hair, resting on the nape of his neck. He leaned down to meet her lips in a forbidden kiss. Her heart was beating a million times per second. She felt his pain through his touch. She led him farther.   
  
The lights would be no use to them tonight, they didn't need to see. Only to feel the warmth of each other, so many memories would be relived. Yet they were changed persons: she was better, he was broken. His hands slid over her body, lifting her onto the soft waves. He never rushed, he was always perfect in every way. The silence was ear-shattering, there would be no talking. There never was between them. Words would never be enough to sum everything between them. There were so many lies, deceptions, distortions... Words would only destroy the last stable connection they had.   
  
The springs shifted under his weight, he paused a minute, looking at her face. She could feel his eyes remembering the moments, trying to go back in time. They had never been strong, but they had loved. It had been harder for her to admit it. Love had always been an illusion before him. Finally, she had been able to let herself live a little. She learned what trust meant. She felt love for the first time, fully and unconditionally with him. She could see him waiting for her. She could feel him, his arms wrapping around her tiny frame. He held her and protected her from all evils.   
  
His finger played along her bare stomach, the buttons undone only moments before. He was delicate in every movement, afraid to hurt her. He could never hurt her. His lips were warm against her cold skin, relaxing her, pushing her into a trance. Her hands kneaded the tense muscles along his shoulders. Her tiny hands could do so little for him.   
  
His kisses transcended her collar, circling her breasts, skimming her nipple. He knew what she liked, he still remembered. He was precise in his actions, sensitive in his thoughts. Nothing was about him at that moment, it was all about her. He worshiped her, her beauty, her presence, her grace... She was a goddess to him, and she knew it. She could feel it.   
  
She pulled him up to her level, sneaking into his mouth with her tongue, winding and twisting, never battling. She never battled with him, he would always let her win. She sensed the need and pull within him. She wanted it as much as he did. It had been too damn long. Her hands skimmed his chest, reaching the end of his sweater and gingerly pulled it over his head. She was left with a dream. Her hands skimmed the worn muscles of his stomach, hard from the strains he endured. His arms were well built and strong, enough to lift the heaviest burdens. He built them from carrying those burdens on a daily basis.   
  
Her nimble fingers undid his belt buckle and button, slowly sliding everything that came in her way off his pulchritudinous form. He was left exposed and unprotected in front of her. She laid back, the drill was always the same. She was the idol, he was the worshiper. His hands caressed every part of her body: her neck, her shoulders, her arms, her chest, her breasts, her stomach, her hips... He paid special attention to every part, as if this was the first and last time he will ever have the chance.   
  
She took his hand, kissing every blessed finger. He's a treasure she would want to keep forever, yet knows that's impossible. She wants to remember his taste, his feel, his touch. She will remember it forever, the thoughts getting her through the lonely, cold nights. He will provide her with radiant warmth with a simple thought. He meets her lips with his, sweet as honey, bitter as dark chocolate.   
  
She could feel him beginning to enter her, the same hesitant way he always had. He always worried if he was hurting her, punishing her, torturing her. He never was. She saw the pained expression his face, his eyes closed, not seeing, not smelling, not touching, simply feeling. He looked ten million miles away, not with her on a bed in the middle of Chicago. He was far away with the one he truly loved, making love on a moonlit beach. This was the closest either them would get to that dream.   
  
He set a slow rhythm, she followed. Her arms wrapped around him, she was one with him. Their thoughts were meshed and woven between them. She had never known the true meaning of making love before him. It was much more than the physical, it was a journey. A journey that joined them, made them more aware of the misery of each other. She felt his tears on her bare body, the sparkling waves rippling down his cheeks. She wanted to kiss them all away, yet this was his release as much as it was hers. She didn't let him know she noticed.   
  
She clenched onto him for dear life, his patterns and ways never failed her. She was sailing through bliss on a temporary euphoria in his arms. His arm held her arched back and he slowly placed her down, fearing to break the porcelain figure. He shifted and laid down next to her. With his deep brown eyes he watched her breathe, her breasts rising and falling with each inhalation. His head rested on her stomach, her fingers mindlessly played with his dark brown hair.   
  
"Voljim te..."  
  
His voice was a whisper in the dark of the night, blown away by the wind. The memories would sustain them both for years to come. A simple night, stolen by fantasy. They would depart, more knowing of each other. Never would they speak, never would they acknowledge. They would let the fire burn within their hearts. She didn't love him. His words meant nothing. She wasn't the one he loved. He wasn't the one that held her heart now. They were a dream that both held onto, a dream that neither cared to let go of. 


End file.
